


Wolf Heart, Dragon Soul

by GarnetSeren



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dragons, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Light Angst, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Self Confidence Issues, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Strong Female Characters, Unrequited Love, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-09-03 03:05:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 14,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16754833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarnetSeren/pseuds/GarnetSeren
Summary: From the moment he laid eyes on her, Farkas new she was something special. He was attracted to her immediately, not just her pretty looks, but the fierce nature she seemed to embody. Asking her to seek out the Companions, his family, had been instinctual... hoping he'd see more of her. However, he didn't expect the easy friendship they fell into, nor her understand and accepting nature. He feels blessed to know her, but also knows she is far out of his league. He might not be as stupid as people like to think, but Farkas knows where his talents lie. He's not good with words, and stumbles over what to say to her. His twin brother has no such problems, and he knows Vilkas is a better man than he is... however, just because it's what he believes, doesn't mean she feels the same. Perhaps the captivating woman has an opinion of her own, one that seems quite at odds with what others think of him.





	1. Chapter 1

Farkas bristled at the way Aela talked to the new comer, but as always he held his tongue. Watching, listening, taking more in than the others gave him credit for. Because of this, he knew the arrow that was embedded in the giant's eye was shot by the petite wood elf... an impressive feat, considering how long it had taken her to jog over to them, once their foe was slain. It took skill to land a hit from that distance, and Farkas knew the woman had contributed more to the fight than Aela was giving her credit for.

Besides, the petite redhead needn't have gotten herself involved at all, but she had still tried to aid them against the giant, which spoke of honour. So did the fact she didn't bother trying to defend herself against Aela, instead just levelled the huntress with a weighted look before turning away toward Whiterun. Which was a far cry from her fellow wood elf, a man who seemed to rant in their native tongue as he joined the woman. However she just shrugged then shook her head, and even spared Farkas himself a half smile as they passed.

He really couldn't help it then. Despite being a man of few words, Farkas felt the need to say... something. But if this petite elf was anything like she seemed to be, he had the feeling she'd find a 'well done' or 'good shot' rightfully patronising. So instead as she walked by, he quietly stated:

“You look strong. Come to Jorrvaskr and be a Companion.”

The petite elf glanced over her shoulder at him, her black eyes unreadable... until she winked. For some reason, a jolt shot through Farkas at the gesture and a smile tried to tug at the corner of his mouth. He was intrigued and hoped she'd seek them out.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time Farkas saw the intriguing woman was as she ran through the streets of Whiterun, keeping pace besides the Jarl's housecarl: Ireleth. He frowned, surprised to see the two differing elves together; his enhanced hearing picking up fragments of their hurried conversation... something about dragons and escaping Helgen. It gave him pause, and he halted his steps to watch the woman run through the gates of Whiterun with a group of the Jarl's soldiers. Aela caught his eye then, silently raising an eyebrow. It seemed his shield-sister might be revaluating the intriguing woman, and Farkas was oddly pleased with the notion. He wasn't sure why, but he was certain there was something special about the petite elf.

Unsurprisingly, he found sleep illusive that night... a regular occurrence since joining the Companion's inner circle. And eventually, tossing and turning in his bed became too frustrating. Foregoing his armour for once, Farkas threw on a simple cotton shirt and leather trews, before leaving Jorrvaskr to wander the deserted streets of Whiterun.

To say he hadn't expected to see the woman again so soon was an understatement, but as he stepped out of the door, he spotted her once again with Ireleth. This time, both women were covered in blood, and she was helping support the much taller elf as they walked slowly towards the steps to Dragonsreach. Members of the guard followed behind them, looking battered and singed, and once again Farkas' enhanced hearing caught snippets of conversation... awed whispers about a living Dragonborn.

His ears perked up at that, his keen gaze riveted to the petite elf as she passed, though he doubted she would noticed him in the shadows of Jorrvaskr. However, Farkas felt his breath catch as she unexpectedly turned her head; her onyx eyes inexplicably finding his immediately. He swallowed thickly, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides, his heart beginning to race ever so slightly as she gave him an almost imperceivable nod. He really had no idea why the red-headed woman affected him so, but he hoped more than ever that she'd seek out the Companions.


	3. Chapter 3

When Aela had summoned him to her room like some pup in training, Farkas had been ready to snap. Until he saw the petite elf with her; they'd locked eyes and he'd felt drawn into their onyx depths... almost missing Aela's 'instruction' to show the new-blood where the other Companions slept. However, he didn't miss the look the huntress shared with Skjor, but he chose to ignore it. As much as he preferred to deal with things through strength, he wasn't as dim witted as people liked to think. He knew there was a time and place for such things, and fighting with his shield-siblings wasn't one of them.

It probably helped that the red-headed woman chose to smile up at him, actually apologising that Aela hadn't just pointed her in the direction of the bunk room. Farkas had shrugged, unsure exactly what to say to that... after all, he knew why the huntress had called him. His shield-sister wanted to embarrass him, since she'd been teasing him about only inviting the petite elf to join because he 'wanted to get his end away'. And though Farkas wouldn't bother denying finding the woman attractive, he had growled at the insinuation. Despite everything, he wasn't a beast controlled by base desires. But that had only made Aela laugh more... not that he told the new-blood any of that.

Thankfully, she seemed content to walk with him in silence, not seeming bothered by his lack of conversation. Farkas did try a little, certainly more than he usually did, giving her a brief explanation about Jorrvaskr and it's layout. He'd offered her work, which she'd readily agreed to, though he'd almost walked away before remembering to ask her name. Daron, he found out. He'd titled his head at that, it seemed strange to him, though he supposed his own name was probably just as foreign to her. It had a nice sound to it though, and Farkas was glad he wasn't prone to talking, otherwise he might have accidentally said that out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daron is a Bosmer in this, and the name means 'From the Oak' in Welsh.


	4. Chapter 4

He'd been stood on the steps of Jorrvaskr, enjoying the scent of a new crisp morning, when the other wood elf Daron had been with came to stand at the bottom of the stairs. Farkas studied the man, wondering what his relationship with the new-blood was, and then wondered why it even mattered. The elf didn't acknowledge him, merely leant against the wall until Daron appeared a moment later. Then to Farkas' surprise, the man gave her a flourishing bow.

“Good day, my Thane.”

“Piss off, Faendal,” Daron laughed, jogging down the steps.

Farkas' ears perked up, wondering if there was more to this than just teasing. After all, he had seen her with Ireleth multiple times now, and when one of the Jarl's men stopped his patrol to greet her respectfully, Farkas supposed it must be true. He wondered if perhaps he should ask Eorlund if he had heard anything, or maybe Kodlak... the old man seemed to know much about the inner workings of the Hold. But that trail of thought was halted when Daron smiled at him in passing.

“Morning, Farkas.”

He nodded to her in greeting, watching as she reached the bottom and her fellow elf slung an arm around her shoulders.

“What? It's not every day I can celebrate my sister Bosmer rising in the ranks of society,” he stated.

“Revelling later, we have a job to do. We need to get to Serpent's Bluff Redoubt.”

The man bowed again. “Lead on my liege.”

Daron snorted. “Your ass is going to meet the business end of my arrows if you're not careful.”

Farkas silently watched as the pair continued to bicker jovially as they walked out of sight. It almost reminded him of how he and Vilkas could be when they were both in high spirits. He also didn't miss the fact Daron had opted to do the job he'd given her so promptly; no one would doubt a Companions' commitment, but few chose to rise with the sun like he did. For some reason, it left him feeling oddly pleased.


	5. Chapter 5

The distant beat of horse hooves grew steadily louder, forcing Farkas to glance behind him. He hadn't expected to see Daron riding towards him on a handsome chestnut mare, nor had he expected the brilliant smile she directed at him as she reigned in her horse beside him.

“I thought it was you,” she greeted, slipping elegantly from the saddle. “I'd have pulled you up, but I think you weigh a little more than Faendal does.”

Farkas huffed a laugh at that. He probably weighed twice as much as her fellow elf did, even out of his heavy armour.

“You know, we could have just set out together instead of arranging to meet at the cairn,” Daron continued.

He shrugged, having not much to say to that. In truth, he'd wanted to limit the amount of time he could embarrass himself in front of her. He wasn't good with words like Vilkas was, and he doubted he would be as good a travelling companion as her fellow elf was... though the man seemed conspicuously absent.

“Where's your second?” he asked, trying not to seem too interested.

Daron shook her head, a rueful smile on her face. “Finally managed to get an Amulet of Mara for the lovesick fool... just hope Camilla takes him up on it. I don't think I could stand his moping if she doesn't.”

Though Farkas wouldn't admit it to anyone, a wave of relief washed over him. Not that he actually thought he'd stand a chance with a woman like Daron, who was already making a name for herself outside the Companions... not to mention the secret he carried close to his chest. However, he couldn't deny the buoyant mood the news put him in, nor how pleasant it was to simply walk along with Daron at his side, as she led her horse up the steep incline to the cairn. It was also a relief to realise the silence between them was far from uncomfortable; something Farkas could say for very few people. It stirred a tiny flicker of hope within him.


	6. Chapter 6

The light-heartedness Farkas had felt, teasing Daron for getting stuck in one of the ancient cairn's gated rooms, vanished the moment he heard footsteps. His senses went into overdrive, immediately picking up the scent of silver in the air. A chill rippled down his spine. The Silver Hand was not who he relished running into in the best of times, but during Daron's proving quest was probably the worst moment he could think of. Not only because he wanted his potential shield-sister to succeed, but selfishly because he didn't want to change what seemed like the favourable opinion she had of him. What was more, Farkas did like Daron as more than a potential shield-sister, and he knew what was undoubtedly about to happen would blow any chance he might have otherwise have.

However, he supposed it was a small price to pay to ensure they both made it out of this alive. Still, he hated the thought he was about to frighten her. But as the group of Silver Hand recruits advanced on him, Farkas knew he had no choice but to change. The beast quickly took over, his specialised armour falling off him easily, just as a soldier took a swipe at him with a silver blade. That one was quickly dispatched, followed by two more, but a forth managed to stab him in the shoulder. Howling in pain, he stumbled backwards, the rusted gate snagging against his fur when he fell against it. A growl reverberated in his throat as he watched his attacker advance, though to his surprise, a dainty hand shot over his own shoulder; he caught Daron's pleasant scent over the smell of blood and silver, just before the acrid whiff of burning flesh assaulted his sensitive nose.

It took Farkas a moment to realise Daron was the cause, sending an angry jet of flame at the nearest Silver Hand. Her other hand had managed to squeeze through the gate's bars as well, since he felt her cool fingers tentatively touch his injured shoulder. He turned his head slightly in surprise, his lupine eyes catching her fleeting glance at his face, before he felt a tingle of healing magic begin to knit together his rendered flesh. He hadn't known she was a mage as well as an archer. Then again, rumour had it she was Dragonborn, so perhaps he shouldn't have been so surprised.

Not that it really mattered, especially when there were still foes to take down. Daron's flames had dealt with another before his shoulder was mended, but as soon as her healing spell finished, Farkas launched himself at the nearest attacker. Claws and teeth worked in terrible tandem, until the only living things in the room were Daron and himself. He couldn't help wondering what she thought of him then as she looked at him; blood dripping from his paws and muzzle. He ducked his head, told her he'd go find the release mechanism for the gate, and snagged his leather trews in hopes of not making her further uncomfortable with his inevitable nakedness.

The release didn't take long to find, and it was obvious it had been tampered with, which would explain how the careful elf had gotten trapped in the first place. However, after reverting and tugging on his trew, Farkas felt hesitant to face Daron again. He dreaded seeing the natural fear in her eyes, but knew he couldn't linger. Dustman's Cairn was hardly a safe place, especially with the threat of more Silver Hand recruits lying in wait. However, when he rejoined Daron, she looked more concerned than frightful... though that could have been thanks to the stash of silver daggers and cure potions he saw her stuffing into her pack.

“I hope I didn't scare you,” he said, cautiously.

“Well, it's never nice to see your partner injured,” she replied, her gaze flicking to his shoulder. “Are you okay, no lasting damage?”

“I... I am fine,” Farkas stated, watching her stow another dagger. “Daron, you... have nothing to fear from me.”

She looked up at him then, seeming confused; her brow furrowing before she looked down at the dagger in her hand. Her onyx eyes widened, obviously understanding what he meant. To Farkas' surprise, Daron dropped the dagger as if it had burnt her. She hurriedly stood up, and actually took several steps towards him. He sucked in a surprised breath when her cool hands lightly gripped his bare forearms.

“Farkas! I'm so sorry, I didn't think. If the silver bothers you, I'll dump it,” she said, quickly. “I just know Adrianne pays a good price for it. But shit, like that even matters if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Before he could say anything in reply, Daron was already heading back for her small pack, and did actually start removing all the silver she had in there. Farkas heart hammered a little loudly in his chest, watching as she even dumped a locket and ring he knew couldn't have come from the Silver Hand. It took him several heartbeats to realise he should finish getting dressed, though he went about the motions a little dazed, stunned she was so concerned with his feelings... and that she didn't seem at all bothered about his lycanthropy.

“There. Done,” she said, brightly. “You ready?”

He nodded slowly, his mind trying to figure out a way to ask her again if she was alright. Because just because she seemed to be okay, didn't mean she was... perhaps she was afraid he'd attack her, if she showed her true feelings? That thought hit him like a physical pain, though he quickly realised he couldn't smell fear on her at all. She seemed genuinely unphased by the revelation of his closely guarded secret, and he wasn't sure what to make of that.


	7. Chapter 7

Farkas ignored his brother's weighted gaze as he proudly stated he'd vouch for Daron. As far as he was concerned, she'd more than proven herself... perhaps even more so than any other Companion. Not because they'd successfully managed to retrieve the fragment of Wuuthrad, but because of all her other actions since.

She genuinely wasn't concerned about his lycanthropy. Of course she'd had questions, but none as invasive as he'd expected. Mainly if all the Companions were werewolves and if it was expected of her. No and no. To which she seemed nonplussed by the first and only slightly relieved by the latter. Farkas had to admit, she was more accepting than he'd ever dared hope of anyone outside the Circle.

However, he also knew he smelt of her; something the four other members of the Circle would be able to scent as well. Though contrary to what the others bar Kodlak thought, nothing had happened between them. He'd been bitten by a frostbite spider, and Daron had actually taken a silver tipped arrow meant for him... not to mention the multitude of scratches and scrapes they'd gotten fighting draugr. Feeling worse for wear, they'd decided to camp for the night; not wanting to stumble upon a giant while traversing in the dark. However, without a tent and only a simple sleeping bag between them, they'd huddled together for warmth. Farkas had woken with Daron's head on his shoulder and his arm slung low across her waist.

It had been a nice feeling, both waking up to her sleepy smile, and realising she really wasn't afraid of him despite his secret. If anything, she seemed protective of him; she'd certainly thrown herself between him and the Silver Hand plenty of time in the cairn. Something that could have been amusing, considering he was the one who wielded a claymore. However, Farkas was far too stunned by her care to even think of teasing her for her actions... especially when she'd actually gotten shot for her efforts.

So of course he was proud to vouch for her. He was proud to call her shield-sister. It didn't matter if she'd proven she was Dragonborn by acquiring a word of power whilst they were in the cairn, that hadn't swayed his judgement. Daron's own caring yet fierce natured had proven her worth, nothing else. And Farkas was prepared to defend her against anyone, even his own family, even his own twin.


	8. Chapter 8

As much as he wished it was different, Farkas didn't see much of Daron for a while after that. She was always off somewhere, rarely on Companion quests, yet Kodlak always seemed to know what she was doing and seemed to approve. She'd never even stayed a night in Jorrvaskr after her proving, and it was only after overhearing Ria ask Daron about it, that Farkas learnt she'd managed to buy a house near the market. Of course he was pleased for her, though he couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that he'd see her even less.

However, stories of her deeds were ripe on the streets of Whiterun. From dragons slain, Forsworn and bandits defeated, to family heirlooms recovered. It seemed the entire hold loved their new Thane, Kodlak and Eorlund both spoke highly of her, and she brought honour to the Companions; whether or not the quests were done in their name. Really, she was everything a Nord should be... funny that she was a wood elf though.

As pathetic as it was to admit, Farkas found himself lingering around Jorrvaskr's hall whenever there was word that Daron was back in the Hold. He relished any moment he could carve with her, even if it was only when she came looking for a job. He never managed to work himself up to say anything other than what was needed, but the small smile she always gave him meant more to Farkas than he cared to admit.

Though as the weeks turned into months, it became clear it wasn't only himself and Kodlak who were impressed with Daron. Skjor started asking him to send the elf his way if Farkas saw her, and he over heard Aela comment that she'd like to hunt her one day; something that put him on edge, knowing all too well the double meaning that could have. Of course, it wasn't his place to say anything... or at least it wasn't, until Skjor woke him in the dead of night. Despite being sleep-addled, Farkas had still punched his shield-brother upon hearing what he and Aela had done. Angry they hadn't consulted at least he and Volkas, because then at least he could have been there to help Daron.

As it was, the transformed elf had fled and the huntress had lost her trail. Furious, Farkas had foregone his armour, opting to jump the wall surrounding the training yard in order to transform faster. It had felt... strange... to be in his beast form again. He hadn't given the wolf control since Daron's proving, and it had been many months before that as well. However, despite how he now felt about his wolf, Farkas couldn't bare the thought of Daron being out there scared and alone.

So he let the beast take over, and quickly picked up her trail; since after the night she had slept in his arms, Farkas had been more aware of her scent than others. On a still day, he could pick up her scent to moment she stepped into Whiterun. So he didn't bother waiting for the rest of his pack; trusting his enhanced instincts and the simple need to find her, Farkas set off towards the mountains.

Dawn was approaching by the time he finally found her; bare skin and shivering in a small cave, huddled next to a meagre fire. Not wanting to startle her, Farkas made his steps as loud as possible, his large paws purposefully snapping a dry twig as he went. Daron's head snapped up, and Farkas' heart hurt to see the obvious tear tracks on her cheeks; that had smudged the make up from around her eyes, making it look more like his own warpaint than anything else. However, a sense of pride mixed with a surge of hope was he lumbered towards Daron, and her only reaction was to whisper his name.

He transformed then, thankful the elf had turned her head to give him some sort of privacy; after all, the chilly temperature was hardly leaving him looking his best. However, Farkas slowly sat down beside her, angling his body to provide them both a bit of modesty, but ensuring they were still close enough to share body heat.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, gently.

Daron shook her head. “I don't want to. I remember reading that feeding is how a werewolf sustains their form, and... and it's not something I want to do.”

“Why did you chose the change then?”

“Because they made it seem like I had no choice,” she admitted, her voice surprisingly timid.

Farkas turned his head to face her then, realising that the way she hugged herself was probably more for comfort than to keep warm. So slowly, after only a heartbeat of hesitation, he carefully wrapped an arm around her slender back. However, he nearly jumped when Daron responded by resting her head on his shoulder, and he had to swallow thickly at the feel of her bare skin against his; it felt a hundred times better than simply falling asleep together, and Farkas felt ashamed for the thought. Because as attractive as he found her, Daron was hurting and needed him as a shield-brother.

And as he held her, Farkas couldn't help wondering what it must have been like for Daron. He supposed seeing him change for battle was one thing, but how unnerving must it have been for her, to be confronted by one werewolf and one heavily armoured Nord; both of whom would have towered over the petite elf, and both were trained in close quarter combat, whereas Daron preferred ranged attacks. Farkas squeezed her a little tighter at the thought... fully appreciating why she felt she couldn't refuse the offer. Even if they hadn't meant to, he could understand how Aela and Skjor had intimidated her.

“Don't you have any 'Cure' you took from the Silver Hand left?” he asked.

“Plenty, but it's effectiveness is time limited. Even if we left now, by the time we got back to Whiterun it would be too late,” she explained. “Even if I had set off the moment the transformation ended, it would have taken too long to explain to the guards why I was naked. And then I would have been mortified as well as trapped like this.”

Never one for words, Farkas figured there was not much he could say to that. However, he didn't like seeing Daron upset, completely unlike the confident woman she usually was. So hoping she wouldn't reject him, Farkas pulled her closer to his side; his free hand reaching for one of hers that were wrapped around her knees. To his relief, Daron's fingers immediately entwined with his; her hand laughably small against his. He leant his cheek against her tousled hair, silently vowing he'd help her find a way to break the curse.


	9. Chapter 9

Things were tentative amongst the inner circle after Daron's induction; Kodlak and Vilkas unhappy that another was baring the beast's taint, Aela and Skjor indignant their motives and methods were called into question, Daron was angry their actions and lack of foresight had potentially put lives at risk when she fled, and Farkas was concerned for her and wishing the tension between the others would die down as soon as possible. They were family, there shouldn't be such bad feeling between them and he hated it.

Though thankfully, things started to simmer down. A month after Daron's transformation... time in which he knew she hadn't used her beast form again... Aela and Skjor had approached her about joining them on a quest. Something he only knew because Daron had sought him out to confine in. Farkas felt honoured she trusted him enough to share her worries, and hoped his meagre words managed to reassure her somehow.

He supposed they must have, since he didn't see the trio for two weeks... though their returned to Jorrvaskr wasn't a happy one. Only Aela and Daron returned, bringing sad news of Skjor's death. The women only stayed long enough to raise a tankard in their shield-brother's honour, and when Farkas woke the next morning, he found they had already gone. Another fortnight passed before the huntress returned, and a month went by of her passing off vague excuses, before Daron returned to the hold.

However, Farkas didn't even have the chance to greet the elf, let alone speak to her. The moment Daron stepped foot in Jorrvaskr, he heard Aela inform her Kodlak wanted to see her, and Farkas didn't even have chance to rise from his seat before she was disappearing from view once again. Vilkas had given him an appraising look, though he ignored it. He wasn't getting into a debate with his twin about his love life... or lack there of.

Two hours later, when evening meal was in full swing... though with no sign of either Kodlak or Daron... Farkas caught movement out the corner of his eye. He watched the pair walk to the grand doors of Jorrvaskr together, the Harbinger marking something on a map before handing it to the elf. Their conversation was too quiet and the noise in the hall too loud for Farkas to hear what was going on, but he watched as Daron lay a hand on Kodlak's forearm, smiling up at him; it seemed as if she was giving the old man some sort of reassurance. Then with a nod of her head, she left Jorrvaskr without a backward glance.

Farkas felt his stomach settle somewhere near his boots, and he pushed his plate away, no longer hungry. Ignoring his twin's concerned look, he left the table and headed to his room, content to keep his own council. He doubted Daron had even noticed he was there, he didn't know when she would be back, and despite how pathetic it made him feel, Farkas couldn't help being upset by that. Even knowing she obviously didn't feel the same, he missed Daron when she wasn't around.


	10. Chapter 10

The scent of silver and blood was so strong, that Farkas had missed Daron's arrival until his brother was shouting her name. However, instead of the buoyancy he usually felt at her being back, his heart was heavy as he looked up from Kodlak's body. His blood was rushing in his ears so loud that he barely heard Vilkas demand to know where Daron had been, only just catching her answer that she'd been on a quest for the Harbinger.

Farkas watched her eyes widen as his brother spat that he hoped it had been worth it, and her onyx gaze immediately started searching the hall. She saw him almost immediately, though he wasn't sure if the look of relief that flashed across her pretty face was merely wishful thinking on his part. For a moment later, she spotted Kodlak and rushed over. Farkas shot Njada a look of warning as Daron crashed to her knees beside him; dumping a blood stained bag as she did.

“No, no, no,” she whispered, her voice ragged. “I just... we hadn't...”

He watched as her hands reached out, hovering over the old man, before she curled them into fists and rested them on her lap. His wolf wanted to howl at the utter devestation on her face. Farkas assumed the wood elves had their own method of honouring the dead, and assumed Daron didn't know if any of them would be permitted. He almost reached out to her then, thinking to tell her Kodlak would have been honoured she thought of him as kin. But then she folded in on herself; her forehead touching her knees as she whispered what Farkas thought was a prayer in her native tongue.

Wanting to give her a little privacy, he glanced away, his gaze immediately falling to the stained bag. He gave a subtle sniff, catching a strange scent beneath the lingering stench of silver and blood. Curious, Farkas ever so slightly moved part of the canvas, almost jumping in surprise as the face of a Glenmoril witch came unexpectedly into view. Varkas chose that exact moment to come over, still scowling at Daron. However, the moment he caught sight of what was in the bag, his eyes widened... they both knew Kodlak had been looking for a way to cure lycanthropy, and Farkas didn't doubt the old man had asked Daron for her assistance.

No wonder the elf was so stricken with his passing; she knew of his desire to reach Sovngarde like a true Nord, and had been trying to help. Farkas eyes began to sting as he considered it, wondering if there was a way to still grant the Harbinger's wish. However, the thought was halted as Daron sat back up, and Valkas awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Was anyone else hurt?” she asked, quietly.

“No,” his twin sighed. “But they made off with all our fragments of Wuuthrad.”

Daron ran her hands through her hair in aggravation. “Shit!”

Vilkas hesitated for a moment before stating: “You and I are going to reclaim them.”

It seemed Farkas wasn't the only one surprised at his twin's proclamation, for Daron's whirled around to face him; her onyx eyes glancing at him briefly before narrowing at his bother. Farkas couldn't really blame her for her suspicion. Vilkas had hardly been the most welcoming of Daron, and just a moment ago he was lashing out at her, as if she was the reason Kodlak was dead. However, though obviously wary, Daron actually nodded her agreement.

“Alright. Give me a little while to explain to my daughter,” she replied, quietly.

Farkas couldn't help stare at her, as did many of the other Companions in the hall... which only made him feel marginally better he didn't know she had a child. It... hurt that Daron hadn't told him of a family, after all they were shield-siblings, he also thought they might be friends. Perhaps he was wrong, but then again, it seemed no one else knew of her daughter either. Farkas tried to recall if he'd seen any child that might have looked like Daron, but he was certain he'd have noticed another wood elf in the Hold. He also hadn't smelt her scent on anyone else, which left him even more confused.

Vilkas however seemed to recover quickly. “Of... of course. I'll wait for you at the gate.”  
  
There was a ghost of a smile on Daron's lips, though before she rose to stand she hesitated. Farkas watched as she glanced at Kodlak's body and seemed to deliberate with herself, before leaning over to kiss the old man's brow.

“Hunt well, my friend,” she whispered, barely audible even to Farkas' enhanced hearing. “I'll find a way to send your soul to Sovngarde, I swear.”

And with that, she was gone without a backward glance; leaving Farkas staring after her, wondering if it was just a child she'd kept hidden from them.


	11. Chapter 11

As always, Farkas caught Daron's scent the moment she stepped into Whiterun. He could tell his twin was with her, and tried to act like he wasn't waiting for them, as he wandered to the steps outside Jorrvaskr. He hoped their task had gone well, but before he could decide whether to go meet them or not, a group of children bickering caught his attention. Normally, Farkas wouldn't pay things such mind, expect that Lucia seemed to be involved. She was a recent addiction to the Hold, an orphan he knew, and Farkas tried to keep an eye on her best her could. After all, he could remember what it had been like before Jergen had taken them under his wing.

He felt bad for the child, but he'd been out voted when he'd suggested adopting her into Jorrvaskr. So all he could do was make sure the sisters at the chapel had a sleeping roll for her, and gave her some spare gold when he could. He also tried to step in whenever the Jarl's kids got too tough with her... or lurk menacingly as Aela liked to tease... he hated to see her tears whenever her parents were brought up. He thought he'd have to do so this time, until she suddenly yelled: “MAMA!” at the top of her voice.

Farkas' head whipped in the direction the girl ran, and stopped dead in his tracks. He wasn't expected to see a grinning Daron kneel down, holding Lucia close when the child threw her arms around the elf's neck. His gaze met his brothers, who seemed just as surprised as he did, but the more Farkas thought about it, the more it made sense. Jergen had always called him and Varkas his sons, despite not having fathered them. And considering the type of person Daron was, it wasn't too hard to believe she'd also adopt an orphan.

A small hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he watched the elf rummage in her pack before give her daughter a dagger; Skyforged steel no less... and Farkas was fairly sure Eorlund had once joked about Daron asking for a dagger instead of a larger blade. It was touching to realise she was giving her own weapon to the girl, and if the way Lucia ran off shouting something about practising with 'Lydia' was any indication, the child was suitably impressed with the gift.

He had meant to turn away then, hide the fact he'd been watching the scene unfold. But before he could, Daron looked up at him. Her smile was much more sedate than it had been for her daughter, but it was there... warm and genuine, like she was actually happy to see him. Once again, despite his common sense, Farkas felt that familiar surge of hope whenever Daron gifted him with her time. Though not wanting to risk embarrassing himself, he simply nodded to her in greeting as she and his twin drew near.

“Has the pyre been lit yet?” Vilkas enquired.

Farkas shook his head. “Preparations have just been completed, I expect Eorlund will summon us at any moment.”

Sure enough, a loud gong could be heard up at the Skyforge, and Daron smiled saddly; walking between him and his brother as they ascended the stairs. Feeling a brave, Farkas rested a hand on her slender shoulder, hoping to give her some comfort. He wasn't expecting her to reach up and lace her fingers with his, silently squeezing back. But it filled his heart with warmth, despite the occasion.


	12. Chapter 12

It was... awe inspiring, being inside Ysgramor's tomb. His heart had pounded loudly in his chest as he watched Daron put Wuuthrad back in it's rightful place, undeniably proud to be witness to such a great moment. He'd clapped his brother on the shoulder before venturing further inside, concerned but understanding Vilkas' feelings on the matter. So Farkas had fought not only in his own honour, but for his twin as well. The spirits of long dead Companions were a worthy challenge, and he was certain he was proving himself just as well as Aela and Daron.

However, that all came to a halt when large, sticky webs came into view. Once again, he his heart had raced, but no longer in excitement. Ever since Dustman's Cairn, Farkas had developed a fear of the dreadful frostbite spiders. His palms felt sweaty, and it felt a little harder to breath with each step he drew nearer to the webs. Farkas quickly realised with dismay that if he felt like this at just the thought of the horrid things, he'd stand no chance in a fight against them. Not only would that put himself at risk, but also his shield-sisters as well, and he couldn't in good conscious subject them to that.

The shame he felt admitting he couldn't go on felt like a molten led weight in his gut, which wasn't helped by Aela scoffing at him as she turned away. However, Daron's reaction was possibly worse. Her onyx gaze was patient as she asked if he was certain, and at his terse nod, she gave him the sweetest smile. Farkas didn't feel deserving of such kindness, and he sucked in a surprised breath when her cool hand rested on his bicep, as she raised up on her toes; her lips _almost_ at his ear as she whispered:

“It's regular, common slugs that do it for me. Horrid slimy things... do _not_ tell anyone!”

An unexpected huff of laughter was startled out of him at the admission, and he looked at Daron expectedly, half thinking it was a joke. But she smiled up at him and shrugged, both gestures seeming to say 'what can you do'. The realisation that she trusted him with such information helped ease some of his shame, and his tail was only somewhat between his legs as her bid her good luck, before returning to the entrance hall to stand watch with his brother.

Vilkas thankfully didn't ask why he'd returned, just nodded at him in acknowledgement as he sat down beside him. It didn't help feeling as if the weight of Ysgramor's gaze was on the back of his neck, and before long, Farkas found him pacing the small stone room like a caged beast. With only the flickering candles for light, it was hard to guess how long the two women were in the tomb, but eventually they heard the sound of stone sliding against stone. A moment later, Aela and Daron appeared from a hidden doorway.

The first thing Farkas noticed was the elfs's scent. She smelt different, like she had before her transformation. He studied her intently, only vaguely listening as Aela stated they'd managed to cure Kodlak's spirit of his beast form. It was a relief to be sure, but Farkas had a feeling that whatever the two women had done for the old man, Daron had elected to do the same for herself. When he caught her onyx gaze he titled his head in silent question, and even without her wolf it seemed the elf understood the gesture, as she gave him a small but pleased smile and nodded. However, she seemed nervous about something; her eyes flittering between Aela and Vilkas, before settling on him again.

“Kodlak made me the new Harbinger,” she stated, quietly.

Daron wasn't timid when she said it, simply quiet. Perhaps a little subdued, as if she was expected a bad reaction from him. Farkas wondered what had happened to make her concerned; maybe Aela hadn't reacted well at first to the news? He couldn't think of why she wouldn't, but then again, the huntress has always been far more ambitious than he or even Vilkas was.

“You don't need to worry about me. I do as I'm told,” he replied.

However, he couldn't help frowning. That hadn't come out at all how he'd wanted it too, but it was his twin who was gifted with words, not him. Farkas had no idea how to tell Daron that he was proud and excited for her, that he had faith she'd help guide the Companions to further glory. So her cursed himself silently, before hurriedly adding.

“Congratulations.”

Daron chuckled, softly. “Thanks, Farkas. That means a lot coming from you.”

He offered her a small smile... hoping against hope that their shield-siblings didn't notice his heart begin to race when the petite elf smiled up at him. Farkas already knew he didn't stand a chance with Daron, and he certainly didn't need them teasing him mercilessly to remind him.


	13. Chapter 13

Farkas had felt embarrassed as he approached Daron, but he'd been thinking about it on and off ever since hearing she'd taken out a dragon for the Jarl. He knew it wasn't the only one she'd faced, he'd heard her and Uthgerd discussing a battle when she'd invited him and Varkas to The Bannered Mare for drinks last time she was in Winterhold. The warrior was happily rejoicing in the victory, whilst Daron was still annoyed the dragon had killed her horse... though upset was probably a better word for it, since Farkas knew she'd loved that mare.

However, a couple of drinks in and she'd been laughing with them, trying to play down the glory of the battle. It was then, watching her argue good-naturedly with Uthgerd that Farkas had formed a plan. It had taken him some time to drum up the courage, often debating sending a letter with a courier in order to ask; but always decided if he was so bad with words in person, any note he'd said would be abysmal. He'd settled for waiting until Daron next returned to the hold, so the moment he saw her jog out to the training yard, Farkas knew he had to take the chance.

So before anyone else got her attention, Farkas caught her eye and motioned her over. He hadn't quite expected Daron to grin at him the way she did, nor did he expect her eyes to light up when he asked... in a very round about way... if she'd consider going dragon hunting with him. However, it hadn't been a surprise that she'd taken the time to explain she didn't like killing the impressive beasts, but that they usually left her no choice. She described them as fearsome, beautiful and wild... which also aptly explained how Farkas felt about Daron himself. Though thankfully, he managed not to embarrass himself by saying that aloud.

Their journey went fairly well; managing to hitch a ride to Karthwasten, then hiking to the Sundered Towers whilst the weather held. Daron advised she'd already cleared out the area whilst avenging Skjor, so they'd planned to stop and rest for a while. However, an ominous shadow suddenly fell over the plateau, and before Farkas could process what was happening, Daron was off like a shot. She unslung her bow as she sprinted away from the tower into the open, the weapon glowing red as she pulled back the bow string.

Farkas was barely to his feet as the dragon landed, though he registered the petite elf got off several shots before he was dashing towards her. His forearm caught Daron around her slender waist, and scarcely managed to drag her out of the way of the dragon's fire. The heat was dazzling; the metal of his heavy armour felt almost molten, and he could feel his skin blistering beneath it. Regardless, he stumbled to his feet, though certainly nowhere near as gracefully as Daron. Her bow was steadily trained on the dragon as it circled overhead, firing another volley of shots as it swooped in to land. Farkas barely managed to close in enough to hack at it's large taloned feet, before he heard Daron shout his name. Instinct had him leaping back, just as the dragon burst into flame, and he watched mesmerised as an energy swirled around the petite elf before it disappeared.

“Well... you wanted to see a dragon,” she joked, jogging over.

He offered her a small smile, wondering how best to tell her how amazing she'd been; that it was an honour to watch her _be_ the Dragonborn. However, the skies suddenly opened. The deluge was as torrential as it was unexpected, however their path back to the tower was blocked by the dragon skeleton. The only thing they could do was try find shelter elsewhere, and it took them a while to find any. In all honestly, it was more by accident that they stumbled upon Four Skull Lookout, since the weather was too bad to risk getting their map out. Of course, it wasn't uninhabited, but they quickly dispatched the bandits hold up in there. Daron taking the two closet to the door out at range, whilst Farkas rushed in to finish the one running towards them.

With that taken care off they hurried inside the ruin, finding a meagre but serviceable camp inside. A small fire was going, there were sleeping rolls already laid out, and a pot of simple stew cooking. Daron offered him a smile of relief, even as she began stripping off her engraved light armour. Farkas tried to follow suit, but hissed as the heavy metal pieces ripped away from his skin. Of course, the petite elf was beside him in a heartbeat, and he tried not to stare; stunned by the gorgeous sight of Daron in just her breast band and small clothes. Farkas muttered a quiet thank you as she helped him with the rest of his armour, dutifully sat when she told him to, and sucked in a surprised breath as her dainty hand began to carefully smooth salve over the worst of the blisters. Accompanying her surprisingly tender touch was a wave of healing magic, and Farkas once again found himself murmuring a quiet word of thanks.

They ate side by side, close enough to share body heat, as their armour lay out to dry. The steady rain was not letting up anytime soon and night was quickly descending. Daron got up to lay several traps at the dual entrances, whilst Farkas situated two of the sleeping rolls as close together as he dared. Though the moment he noticed Daron shivering he opened up the bedding he'd claimed for himself, trying not to be pleased that the elf didn't even hesitate before joining him. Farkas vaguely thought it probably shouldn't feel so good, having her lying in his arms, their almost naked bodies pressed tightly together... but he drifted off with a small smile on his lips, and the herbal scent of her red hair surrounding him.

The next day broke cold but clear, and they managed to scavenge a decent breakfast from the bandits' supplies, before they redressed in their armour and headed out again. They made good time, and came upon The Lover's Stone before noon. Farkas didn't expect them to make the short detour, but he could hardly begrudge Daron her desired blessing.

“You know, you might want to consider the blessing too,” she told him, gently. “I read that among the many boons, it also grants restful sleep... powerful enough that it's said to even aid werewolves.”

Farkas considered her for a moment, worried that his own restless sleep had disturbed her, but touched that she wanted to aid him. Whether she'd gone looking for information specifically, or she'd found it by chance and thought of him, Farkas wasn't sure. It didn't really matter, he was honoured by Daron's kindness regardless. It was a sweet gesture, and after a heartbeat, Farkas stepped forward to also receive the blessing... it had been so long since he'd sought one out, it felt almost novel. However, he couldn't deny the strange intimacy of sharing the moment with Daron; nor the fact they now journeyed under the same blessing; and the lover's boon no less.

The following climb to Dragontooth Crater went fairly unimpeded; just a handful of starved but savage wolves, and a lone saber cat. Though Farkas had been surprised and grateful for the bear fur cloak Daron had handed him, as they traversed the snowy crags and ridges. Her own saber fur cloak stood in stark contrast to their white landscape, making it easier to keep her insight, as the wind whipped up the snow around them. They had just made it down to a rough hewn path, when a mighty roar reverberated around the mountain side. Farkas felt it in his chest and his blood began to thunder in his ears. His wolf was desperate for the hunt, and he glanced at Daron seeking her reaction.

She actually winked at him before racing ahead up the path, only stopping to stow her pack and cloak underneath a small overhang of rock for safe keeping. Farkas followed suit, and was right behind her as she led the way to a clearing that seemed to have been carved out of the mountain face. It was littered with bones, carcases and fresh kills alike, but Farkas smelt more than saw them. His gaze was trained on the truly impressive dragon, that made the one at the tower look like an overgrown lizard. It almost seemed to be waiting for them... or waiting for Daron, at least.

The ensuing fight was a blur. His wolf pushing closer to the surface with every swing of his great sword, almost breaking through when Daron bodily pushed him into cover from the dragon's fierce fire. His senses were assaulted by the scent and feel of her, and the overwhelming desire to impress her... impress a potential mate... rippled through him. However, Farkas refused to relinquish so much control to the beast, and instead honed the urge in distracting the dragon enough that Daron had almost uninterrupted shots. As a result, the battle was fierce but quick, and Farkas not only got to witness her take the dragon's essence, but also absorb the power of the dragon wall as well... he'd never been so awed and humbled, yet attracted to and aroused by a person like he was with the petite elf.

But she was so far out of his league it wasn't even funny. He knew she saw him as her shield-brother, nothing more. Though that didn't stop the swell of pride he felt as Daron complimented him on his battle prowess, nor did it stop his heart from racing as she smiled up at him proudly.

“You ready to head out?” she asked.

“You go if you want to,” he told her. “I've never seen bones this large, and I want to make sure I remember them so I can tell the story right. Otherwise Vilkas will just say I was making it up.”

Daron huffed a laugh, shaking her head and muttering something that sounded like “Bloody Nords” as she disappeared from view. Farkas was a little disappointed to see her go, but he really did want to stay and bask in the glory of battle, yet knew it wasn't the petite elf's way. He didn't want her to feel obliged to remain, though he couldn't deny he would have been glad of her company if she'd chosen to stay. However, not long after, Farkas heard footsteps hurrying back to the clearing. He immediately grabbed his great sword and dropped into a fighting stance; only letting it go once he was sure it was Daron he could see unexpectedly jogging towards him.

“We're not staying here all night,” she warned.

The elf was smiling as she tossed Farkas his borrowed cloak, and he quickly threw it around his shoulders, only realising how cold he was after he was surrounded by warm fur. Farkas nodded his thanks, about to turn back to examining the bones, when Daron suddenly caught his wrist in her dainty hand. He looked at her, tilting his head in silent question; his breath hitching slightly as he felt her slip something smooth into the palm of his hand. Glancing down, Farkas uncurled his fingers to find a dragon scale glittering in the cold sunlight. All he could do was stare at Daron in shock; amazed she'd give him something so valuable.

Daron though, just shrugged. “This way Vilkas has to believe you.”

Farkas huffed out a laugh. “Can't say you're wrong.”


	14. Chapter 14

If Farkas thought asking Daron to accompany him on a dragon hunt was daunting, it had nothing on this. He'd paced for days, trying to drum up the courage to ask yet another request of her... his Harbinger, the Dragonborn. But just like the dragon, if anyone understood the task and the consequences, it was Daron. But still, Farkas could admit to himself that he was nervous. He didn't want her to think him less of a warrior, less of a man, for needing help in what amounted as a personal task. And when there was a light rap on his door late one night, prompting Farkas to shuffle bleary eyed to open it in just his breeches, all words seemed trapped in his throat when Daron was revealed already dressed in her custom armour.

“Sorry it's so late... or so early, but I'm heading out soon and Eorlund mentioned you might want a word.”

He wasn't sure if it was wishful thinking on his part, but Farkas was almost certain her gaze had lingered on his bare torso before she smiled up at him. A small wave of pride washed through him at the notion, and his wolf gave a hopeful growl as he stood aside to let her in. He knew that although his skin was littered with scars from past battles, wielding a great sword had given him a powerful physique. The few women he'd had dalliances with in the past had always been extremely complimentary about his body, and in a moment of madness, Farkas decided to leave his shirt off as he turned to face Daron again.

“I think that maybe Kodlak was right,” he said at length. “As a werewolf, I can't be a good Nord. I want to be clean, like he was... like you are... and go to Sovngarde when I die.”

“How did you know I'm not a werewolf any more?” she asked, smiling.

“Your scent,” Farkas answered, truthfully. “I don't know what ritual you performed to cleanse yourself though.”

“I'd be honoured to help you, if you'd like?” Daron offered. “You'll need to face your wolf's spirit, and I was glad of Aela's assistance, even though she didn't agree.”

“The honour would be mine, Harbinger.”

“Please, don't,” she stated, quietly. “I can deal with it from almost anyone else, but please not you Farkas.”

He nodded. Despite what most people thought, Farkas knew he wasn't stupid. Less gifted with words than Vilkas certainly, but what he lacked in words he made up for watching and listening. He'd noticed how Daron would wince slightly whenever addressed by her new title, and her jaw clenched ever so slightly when people called her 'Thane' or even 'Dragonborn'. It was obvious she wasn't entirely comfortable with the reverence that came with such positions, though Farkas couldn't recall her asking anyone else not to call her such. It felt important that Daron asked him to be the execption, and he couldn't help feel... special for it. Like he maybe mattered more to her than just a shield-brother.

“Of course... Daron,” Farkas agreed, smiling slightly. “When would be convenient for you?”

“Are you busy now?” she asked, brightly. “I have some things that need my attention, but we could handle your problem first, then deal with my tasks on the way back... I'd be glad of your company.”

“I'll meet you at the gate shortly?” he suggested, relieved.

Daron had left with a grin, and Farkas couldn't ignore the swell of excitement he felt as he readied for their travels. Any opportunity to adventure with the petite elf was a welcome one, but knowing he would soon be rid of the beast left him feeling lighter... happier... than Farkas could ever remember. Something that only intensified when he spotted Daron leaning against the Hold's gate, evidently waiting for him.

They hitched a ride to Winterhold, and though it was snowing heavily, they set out immediately for Ysgramor's tomb; Farkas was bundled in the fur cape that Daron refused to take back, and he kept her in sight thanks to her own cape's contrast to the swirling snow. However, a full bodied snow storm soon rolled in, stinging their exposed skin and almost blinding them. Without even thinking, Farkas reached out and grabbed Daron's hand, her fingers tightly entwining with his as they stumbled over the pure white landscape. Though thankfully, the storm hadn't struck until they were almost at the tomb, and they soon found themselves tripping down the steps. Farkas shouldered the stone door open, ushering Daron through first before slamming the slab shut again to keep out the storm.

Though as eager as Farkas was to rid himself of his wolf, he expected the fight to be gruelling, and doubted being half frozen would help matters. So he readily set about helping Daron throw together a meager camp, frowning as he noticed her hands shaking whilst she lit a small fire. Their cloaks were useless dripping with snow, so Farkas laid them out to dry before removing his heavy metal armour. Thankfully, Daron had also removed her breast plate and arm guards by the time he was done, letting Farkas easy grab her around the waist and pull her down into his lap. Farkas offered her a small smile, glad she understood his intentions as she curl up like a cat, and not for the first time, he couldn't help thinking how nice it was to her the petite elf in his arms.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he was aware of was Daron squirming in his lap, and he glanced down at her reaching over for her pack. He gladly accepted the cheese and bread she offered him, and nodded his agreement when Daron suggested they should probably head down to confront his beast soon, so they could rest for the night before venturing out in the snow come morning.

However, Farkas' heart beat loudly in his chest as they descended to the tomb itself; thankful there was a way down that avoided the frostbite spiders, but still apprehensive of the task. He readied his great sword as Daron threw the severed head into the stone font, and immediately felt as if he was being torn in two. Farkas could physically feel the wolf being ripped from him, and the pain had brought him almost to his knees before he looked up at the fierce jaws of the spectral beast. He braced himself, excepting the giant wolf to lunge, only to watch in shock as the spirit suddenly rounded on Daron. The petite elf had wasted no time in unleashing a volley of arrows, which bought Farkas time to get his feet and rush the beast. The fight was gruelling, and each swipe or bite the wolf landed felt like his skin was on fire with the pain, but with Daron's help he prevailed... though Farkas had no doubt the petite elf had held off at the last moment, allowing him to land the killing blow.

Even as he dropped to his knees, with overwhelming feelings rippling through his body, he couldn't help appreciate the symbolism of the gesture. He was touched that she'd thought of it, and gladly accepted her offered hand, as he shakily climbed to his feet; trying his best not to look like he was leaning on his great sword... the wave of relief he felt was almost overwhelming. But from the sly smile Daron directed at him, Farkas knew he wasn't fooling her.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

Farkas offered her a small smile. “It's like relaxing into a warm mug of spiced mead. I'm losing aches I didn't know I had.”

Daron chuckled. “I'm not surprised. I had quite the rush, and I'd only been a werewolf for a few months. I can't imagine how good it must feel for you.”

“This is how a warrior should feel,” he told her, his smile widening. “Alive and aware. Not clouded with thoughts of the hunt. Thank you for your help... I think I'm going to stay in the tomb for a while. My shame kept me out before, but now I want to see it.”

“There is no shame in having fears,” she advised, laying a hand on his shoulder. “And I'll stick close by you. It would be interesting to look around at our leisure, instead of having to fight through it.”

After a moment's hesitation, Farkas reached up to rest his much larger hand over Daron's. He didn't have the words to express how grateful he was, not only for helping him defeat his wolf, but also taking pains to reassure him. It meant a lot that she would, and that she'd stand by his side. And once again, Farkas felt the swell of hope that perhaps his interest wasn't as one sided as he thought.


	15. Chapter 15

Not long after they returned from Ysgramor's tomb, Vilkas had approached Daron, asking for a word in private. Farkas knew without a doubt that his brother could smell the change in him, and most likely wanted her help in curing himself as well. After all, it was Vilkas and Kodlak that had originally put the thought into Farkas' mind, and he was certain Daron would be willing to help his twin. Sure enough, the pair left the next morning, leaving him with a particularly cantankerous Aela, who seemed to want nothing more than to tease him with the suggestion that now Vilkas had warmed up to Daron, the petite elf would soon fall for his charm. Farkas did his best to push that from his mind, but he couldn't help laying in bed at night worrying the huntress was right.

It was one such night that he heard muffled footsteps in the corridor outside his door, and still not entirely use to the diminished senses, Farkas hauled himself out of bed and cracked open his door. He found Daron leaning on the door frame of his brother's room, his twin sitting on a chair nearby, actually smiling up at her. Farkas' gut twisted at the sight, he knew if Vilkas was interested that he really didn't stand a chance. It didn't help matters when Daron ask how he was, only for Vilkas to reply:

“I can't smell your heart beating the way I used to. But my mind is... clear. It was a great service you did for me, Harbinger. I will not soon forget.”

Farkas swallowed thickly, quickly retreating into his room. He didn't need to see or hear any more, Aela was right. Sitting on the side of his bed, Farkas hung his head. His brother's words were far more impressive than his own meagre thanks had been, and he knew that women found that sort of thing charming. He doubted the red-headed elf was any different, after all why would she settle for him if Vilkas was interested. Though he wasn't a stupid as people liked to think, he certainly didn't have the brains his twin did, and Daron was an intelligent woman. Of course she'd want his brother over him.

But then there was a light knock of his door, and Farkas debated whether or not to answer, until deciding it was better to just get it over with. It was going to hurt regardless, so he might as well deal with his brother sooner rather than later. Not that Vilkas would rub it in... he hadn't even admitted his interest in Daron to anyone, after all. So it wasn't his twin's fault if he'd won her heart when Farkas had been to inept to say anything to her.

However, it wasn't Vilkas on the other side of the door but Daron, and he wondered if realising she'd come to him as a friend to share her news hurt more or less than knowing he'd never stood a chance. Not that he'd begrudge either of them. He loved his brother, and Farkas realised with crushing clarity that he loved Daron too. It would be agony to watch them, but he would readily put his own feelings aside to see them happy. And the petite elf certainly looked happy... excited even. So Farkas took a steadily breath, trying to ready himself for what was to come, though he wasn't expecting a hurried apology before she grabbed his wrist.

“Please come upstairs with me. I... I've got something for you, but I didn't fancy trying to drag it down here.”

She almost sounded embarrassed, but her smile was still firmly in place. Farkas had to admit his curiosity was piqued, but he knew he'd have gone with Daron regardless. So he followed her readily, trying not to smile at the way her fingers had trailed down to hold his. In all honesty, the feeling of her hand in his was far better than any present, though that didn't stop him from feeling shocked and awed that Daron had thought to get _him_ something, over any one else. Farkas couldn't imagine what it could be, though he stopped in his tracks the moment his gaze fell to a glowing sword that was propped up near Jorrvaskr's grand doors.

“I understand if you prefer your own blade,” she told him, quietly. “But this is Red Eagle's sword.”

“ _The_ Red Eagle?”

Farkas had grown up listening to the ancient tales of his people, Red Eagle's legend had been his favourite as a boy, so he was tentatively cautious as he reached out for the hilt. It was a stunning weapon, and the blade glowed with the same red light that Daron's bow did.

She nodded, smiling proudly. “Genuine article, I fought him myself... with Vilkas' help. I understand you might prefer Skyforged steel, but I'd really like you to have it.”

A dozen thoughts whirled in his mind as he glanced at the petite elf, foremost was wondering why she wanted to gift such a valuable blade to him. Then again, unless it was from his brother on their name day, Farkas wasn't used to receiving presents in general; which made Daron's gesture even more bewildering and meaningful. He was humbled and grateful. However, Farkas knew he didn't have the words tell her any of his swirling thoughts, so he stuck with what he knew. His heartfelt 'thank you' was hardly eloquent, but if the way Daron smiled up at him was anything to go by, Farkas figured it was enough.


	16. Chapter 16

“I noticed the Harbinger was wearing an Amulet of Mara this morning.”

Farkas looked up from his lunch and glared at Aela. The huntress had been winding him up about Daron ever since he'd cleansed himself of his wolf, he'd put it down to her being upset at losing her pack and had tried to ignore it the best he could, however mentioning the amulet was a step to far. He was about to snap at her, when his brother gave a hum of agreement.

“As did I.”

“She's turned down half of Whiterun,” Aela continued, grinning in approval. “Some none too kindly.”

“I watched her punch Belethor earlier,” Ria chimed in, laughing. “It was glorious. If I thought she was into women, I'd ask her myself.”

“Hey, Varkas. Maybe you should ask the Harbinger. You know you at least have her respected,” Athis called from along the table.

There was a general murmur of agreement from their gathered shield-siblings, and suddenly it was all too much for Farkas. He silently pushed away from the table, and without a word, he made his way outside, not caring if the eyes of the other Companions followed him as he left. He wasn't even sure what angered him more, hearing them talk about Daron as if she was some sort of trophy, or the fact it was consensus that only Varkas stood a chance with her. The knowledge was bitter to swallow, all the more so considering the fine blade she had gifted him, and that fact he was certain he was the only one she'd requested to never address her by a title. Farkas knew he had a familiarity with Daron that no one else seemed to have, and though he cherished that, it also settled like a weight in the pit of his stomach. A feeling that certainly wasn't helped by his brother following him.

“Farkas,” he called, clapping a hand heavily on his shoulder. “Are you alright, brother?”

He opted to remain silent, staring out over the streets of Whiterun, and quickly spotting a familiar shock of red hair down by the Gildergreen. Whether Vilkas saw her too, he didn't know. Not that it really mattered, since he still bristled when his brother suddenly stated:

“You care for her, don't you?”

Once again, Farkas didn't bother to reply. However, he did push himself off the wall he'd been leaning against, when Daron jogged up the steps. Despite common sense, he felt a wave of pride wash over him when she looked relieved to see him... and he was sure it wasn't just hopeful thinking, when he noticed her onyx gaze hadn't even glanced at his brother; her eyes had remained solely on him.

“Farkas, please tell me you're not busy?!” she said, a little breathlessly. “I really need to get out of Whiterun before I kill someone, and I'd be glad of your company again.”

He offered her a small smile at that, agreeing to meet her at the gate shortly, as was their custom. However, he hadn't forgotten his twin in all of this, nor did it escape his notice that Daron didn't seem to be wearing the amulet any more. He couldn't help wondering why, convinced that if she'd actually accepted a proposal, she wouldn't be wanting to leave the Hold as soon as possible. It seemed that Vilkas was somewhat of the same mind.

“I love you, brother, and I'd never want to hurt you,” he stated, quietly. “But the Harbinger is a fine woman. If you don't ask the her whilst you're travelling, I _will_ ask the moment she is back.”

Farkas grunted his acknowledgement, shrugging off his twin's hand in order to prepare. He packed as quickly as he could, and for once he was the one waiting for Daron at the gate, instead of the other way around. Her daughter Lucia came to see her off, and the girl even offered him a small smile and a wish of good luck before the petite elf sent her back home. They quickly headed out after that, not caring about the rain that had steadily begun to fall. Farkas didn't ask where they were headed, simply put gold down to hire a horse as Daron finally bought herself a black stallion, and before long they were racing across the plains.

Despite the driving rain and the mud their horse's hooves kicked up, Farkas could help grinning at her sudden whoop of sheer joy as she spurred her stallion on. Her happiness was infectious, and he couldn't help chuckling as he urged his mare to catch up to them. By the time they made camp that night, pitching a small tent and tethering their horses at the edge of a forest, Farkas realise that Daron hadn't had any direction in mind. There was no quest she was on, just the simple need to leave the Hold and the desire of his company.

It was a realisation Farkas hung on to, as they sat side by side in the small lean-to, watching as their camp fire hissed and spit in the steadily falling rain. They'd both changed out of their armours; Farkas clad in a white shirt and brown leather trews, whilst Daron wore a form fitting green tunic and tan coloured leggings. She looked beautiful with her hair wild, free for once of the braids she usually wore to keep it off her face. But what stole his breath away was the Amulet of Mara falling out the neck of top. Without really thinking, Farkas reached over to her, cradling the golden pendant in his large hand. Daron's much daintier one rested on his wrist, but instead of pulling him away as he feared, her cool fingers simply smoothed over her racing pulse.

“An amulet of Mara,” he all but whispered. “Are you really looking to get married?”

Even though she was wearing one, Farkas thought it was prudent to ask. After all, she wasn't a Nord and he doubted wood elves had the same marriage traditions as they had. Daron could have simply found the necklace and thought it pretty, or perhaps wanted the enchantment's benefits, and had no idea why people had suddenly started proposing to her left, right and centre. Though glancing up to meet her onyx eyes, Farkas couldn't ignore the small smile she gave him... so maybe she did understand what the pendant was for.

“You know, you're the first person that's actually asked me that, instead of proposing on the spot,” she chuckled. “But yes, as long as the right man asks me, I am looking to get married.”

“Right man... do I know him?”

Farkas didn't want to risk getting his hopes up, but it was hard not to when Daron was smiling up at him like she was. The crackling firelight set her hair ablaze and danced in the depths of her onyx eyes, she was breathtaking, like a reincarnation of Mara herself. However, Farkas knew he didn't have the words to tell her any of that. So all he could do was ask her a simple question, and pray to the goddess that she didn't name anyone else.

“I'd have hoped you'd have gotten the idea by now,” she replied, but not unkindly.

“You're a good woman, Daron. And I am...”

“Interested, I hope?”

Farkas offered her a small smile, his heart beating frantically in his chest. “Won't lie, I am. And you?”

To his great surprise, the petite elf leant over, pressing her incredibly soft lips against his slightly chapped ones. The kiss was feather light, as if she was giving him the chance to pull away if he wanted... which was madness. Farkas slowly wrapped his arms around her slender waist and slowly pulled her closer, until she was straddling his thighs. Daron hummed in approval, licking the seem of his lips and when he readily granted her silent request, her tongue started a languid dance with his. Farkas could smell the camp fire smoke in the air, and taste the berries they'd shared for dinner in her kiss. One of her hands cupped his stubbled jaw, whilst the other tangled in his shoulder length hair. He hummed in approval. She was intoxicating. But all too soon, they had to pull apart to breath.

“Yes,” she whispered, against his lips. “Since the moment we met.”

Farkas smiled at her warmly. “Then it's settled then. You and me. We should head to Riften, the priests there will be able to marry us.”

“I have a feeling it will be very different than what I'm use to,” she chuckled, softly.

“Most likely,” he agreed. “Are you still sure?”

“For you, definitely,” Daron grinned. “I've got you now, and I'm sure weird Nord traditions will be more than worth spending my life with you.”

Farkas had no words to say to that, so he kissed her, and kissed her again. His petite elf giggled in delight, letting him lower her to their bedrolls as he captured her lips yet again. He understood her sentiment exactly; he had her now, and he wasn't going to waste anytime he got to spend with her. However, he didn't want their first time to be out in the wilderness... despite how wild and untamed he always found Daron, he wanted to treat her better than that. So Farkas contented himself with pulling her safely into his arm, and drifted off to sleep with a small smile on his lips.

The next morning they rode to Riften, arriving at sunset, and were lucky enough that the priests could marry them the following day. Daron wasted no time in sending a courier back to Breezehome, summoning Lucia and her housecarl; Lydia. Farkas did the same, inviting Vilkas and any other member of the Companions who wanted to attend. Dusk had well and truly descended by the time that was done, and not wanting to chance their good luck, they opted for staying in the Hold's bunkhouse for the night. And although they paid for two beds, they managed to squeeze onto a single; Daron almost lying on top of him, as he held her close.

The dawn brought news of Lucia and Lydia's arrival, the pair having hired a carriage to bring them over night, and Farkas left the women together to catch up. He ventured out into the market square, and after spotting the blacksmith, and idea struck him. How he convinced the man to let him use his forge, Farkas wasn't sure, but he spent the morning creating a silver dagger for his soon to be wife. He wanted a wedding gift for her, and to replace the Skyforged steel one she'd given to her... their... daughter. He inset the dragonscale she'd given him into the bone hilt, and hoped Daron would understand the symbolism that went into the weapon.

Once happy with the dagger, he headed back to the bunkhouse. There was no sign of the women, so Farkas dedicated some time to buffing his armour, only slightly regretting he didn't have anything better to wear. By noon there was a clamour in the street, and after quickly dressing, he went out to see what the commotion was. A smile tugged at his lips at the sight, and he figured the Hold's guards had never had to contend with such a large compliment of warriors before. It seemed Vilkas had brought the entirety of Jorrvaskr with him, along with Eorlund, Amren, Uthgerd and even Daron's friend Faendal from Riverwood.

After sharing a quick hug from his brother and a handshake from the wood elf, they made their way to the Temple of Mara. Farkas' heart was pounding as they ascended the steps, which only raced further as noticed Lydia and Lucia in the front pew. When the girl smiled at him shyly, Farkas gave her a quick wink, proud he managed to make her giggle. However, he didn't have chance to talk to his soon-to-be daughter, before the doors to the temple open again. His mouth went dry as he watched Daron walk in, dressed in what he guessed must be armour native to her people. Though obviously well made, the green and gold set left a lot of skin on display, and Farkas drank in the sight of her... she looked every inch the fearsome, beautiful and wild Bosmer she was, and he loved her all the more for it.

The ceremony was short, which Farkas was glad of. If it had been any longer, it would have been interrupted by the courier that suddenly rushed in; brining news of a dragon sighting near Solitude. There was no question about whether or not Farkas was accompanying his new wife, and they barely had time for Daron to change back into her regular armour, and to hug their daughter goodbye... Vilkas swearing to help Lydia escort the girl back to Whiterun... before they were once again riding towards danger. His hired mare kept good pace beside Daron's feisty stallion, and they rode through the night to make good time.

They arrived not a moment too soon, though Farkas was slower dismounting his horse than his wife was. Daron flung herself off the still galloping horse, rolling once before quickly springing up and racing into action. Farkas wasn't far behind, charging passed the frighten guards and leaping to slash at the dragon who'd just landed. Together, they made short work of the beast, before he stood back to allow Daron to absorb the soul unimpeeded. Unsurprisingly, there was a collective gasp from the gathered crowd, and Farkas glanced around to make sure no one was about to make trouble for his wife.

However his attention was stolen by a young boy at the edge of the crowd, who couldn't have been much older than he and Vilkas had been, when Jergen had taken them to Jorrvaskr. From his ragged clothes and dirty face, Farkas immediately knew he was one of the unlucky orphans; all too common in Skyrim since the civil war started. Unable to resist, he went over to the child, striking up a quiet conversation as Daron talked to the Hold's guards. Hearing Blaise's story hurt his heart, and the offer to take him home, to have him join the family Farkas himself had only just been inducted to, was on the tip of his tongue. However, he knew it wasn't a decision he could make on his own, and he glanced up to find his new wife already walking over to them. Blaise offered a shy hello, before Farkas relayed the boy's story to her. Daron's onyx eyes held his gaze for a long silent moment, and he knew she understood what he so desperately wanted to do. Living in Jorrvaskr had never given him the opportunity to pay forward the kindness Jergen had shown him and his twin as children, and now he had the chance.

Daron cupped his stubbled cheek, smiling at him lovingly before planting a soft kiss to his forehead. She then turned her attention to Blaise, kneeling down in front of the boy in order to offer him what the child said he wanted most... a real home. Farkas didn't care if there were tears in his eyes as he watched Blaise throw his arms around Daron's neck, he didn't care that his voice was thick with emotion as he explained to the boy about Lucia, and also hinted he'd also grown up an orphan as well. Farkas wanted Blaise to know he would be loved and supported, that he wasn't just getting parents but a sister and also a guardian in Lydia, so he never had to fear being alone again. And he knew Daron understood, with the way she smiled at him proudly as Blaise opted to ride with him back to Whiterun. Farkas didn't try to control the happiness he felt as they journeyed home, sharing smiles with Daron as Blaise fell asleep against his chest.

Before meeting Daron, Farkas had never dreamt he'd have children one day. But now he not only had the family of Jorrvaskr that Jergen had given him and Varkas, but he had one all of his own; a beautiful and fearsome wife, along with two brave and resilient children. No longer tainted with wolf blood, Farkas knew he couldn't ask for more... and he silently swore he'd spend the rest of his life repaying Daron for what she had given him.


End file.
